A Part Of, and Yet Apart
by shellebelle
Summary: A companion piece from "An Autobiography of the Mechanic as a Young Girl" - A certain Avox watches Wiress' Games.
1. Chapter 1

In my heart, she had always been three years old. The age she was when they took me away, took my tongue. In my mind, she ages: _she'll be heading to school today_ or _I wonder if she has a boyfriend_ or _today, she will have her first Reaping._

But in my heart, she'll always be three years old, not understanding why the Peacekeepers were taking me away. Reaching for me. Crying for me. My husband holding her back, my strong girl, trying unsuccessfully not to join her in weeping.

They make us watch every Reaping, especially the older Avoxes with Tribute-age children they were taken from. Of course the Reaping is skewed to favor our children. Our children, and the children of Victors. So it wasn't a surprise when Wiress was reaped; I was only surprised it took them two years to do it.

Even though I knew she was likely destined for death, I leaned forward as far as I could go, to see my girl for the first time in eleven years. She looked a bit like me. But her father's eyes. I didn't expect her to be so _beautiful_. I could tell the years hadn't necessarily been kind. She was too thin, her clothes too shabby. They focused next on her father, my husband. He looked completely unfamiliar to me. I still remember him as a young, handsome man. But the years have not been kind to him, either. The madness had taken over, the madness I had kept at bay with my voice, and my smile, and the gentle routines we maintained with each other.

I wanted to look away. I wanted to look away, forget, but also to remember. I wanted to remember my girl up there, as she should be. Before the Capitol and the Games changed her forever.

Before I meet her, and she recognizes me.

The Avox I room with is a bright woman, and can read my face. Her son was Reaped the year before. He didn't make it for long. And now it was her turn to comfort me. Of course we can't speak to each other, and we don't know each other's names. We're not even permitted writing materials. But we can cling to each other like scared children, and so we do. I know where I'll be assigned for the Games. It's a punishment for me. Another petty torture for my little Wiress. I'll be assigned to serve my daughter. But she mustn't even acknowledge my existence. I'm a traitor, after all.

Maybe she would be lucky, and wouldn't recognize me.

The next day, I'm sent to the third floor with another Avox, male, originally from District 3. We're to serve the Tributes from our district. It's traditional. Sometimes we rotate, but I was fully expecting it this year. Since my daughter became eligible to be a Tribute, I've been serving the Games in come capacity each year.

I am going to be tending to her room, bringing her things she needs. I'll be seeing her _every day_ while she's in training. And then, most likely, watching her die in some horrific fashion. District 3 Tributes didn't usually last long. The thought turned my mind into a puddle of tears.

But now was not the time. The Tributes will be here soon, and all must be in readiness. Our days are spent in cleaning, in making up beds, in setting out clothes. I chose the things for her room. I know our children would not last long, so I got the best things I could.

And she was my _daughter_. So the sheets and blankets were the softest ones I could lay my hands on. The clothes were neat and trim the way I hope that she liked things. I wished I knew her. I only remembered a few nursery rhymes I'd taught her. A couple of stories. But she probably didn't even remember me.

_She's probably on the train now_, I thought. _Fascinated by the décor and eating well._ I just wanted her to be safe...but I couldn't even give her that. I wanted her to be comforted, but I probably wouldn't even get a chance to _touch_ her, much less hug her.

Oh, I just wanted to be a _mothe_r again, so badly! I missed the feeling of small arms around me, of feeling so close, so connected to another living creature. A part of...and yet, apart.

I didn't even miss my husband as much, but still, his loss was a bone-deep ache inside me. I miss the meeting of our minds. I miss the nights most of all, with Wiress between us, our family. I even miss my job, designing car motors. I miss talking. I miss _laughing_.

I was dying to see her, and yet, I never wanted her to arrive, to come to this place of poison. I wanted her to stay well away, with her intricate, beautiful mind that surely had come to fruition now, that I had only caught glimpses of when she was a baby. The mind that the Capitol would surely ruin, if she were to survive their barbaric Games.

I made sure that the best shampoo I can find was in her shower. If she was anything like me, her hair never did get very clean in District 3...


	2. Chapter 2

Wiress came to the Capitol the next day. I watched as she got off the train with her district partner, who she seemed quite companionable with. Two people were following her, the Escort and her Mentor, I was sure. I remember her Mentor's games well. When he won, everyone was shocked. And he seemed to be, too.

I really hoped he could help my girl get through this. She looked bewildered at the three members of her prep team who came to take her away. I watched the proceedings through a one way mirror. As her mother, it was my duty. The prep team tearing off her body hair, the washing, the scrubbing. She was so thin. I could count all of her ribs, I could see the tiny points of her vertebrae. I could see her prep team's thoughts on their faces and I wanted to bang on the mirrors and cry out at them: _It's not her fault! I haven't been with her! _

But, of course, I can't. I can only stand, weeping, as they poke and prod her and make her stand, naked and vulnerable, waiting for her stylist. But I'm relieved at who finally does show up.

Angelus is one of the more decent stylists out there. He's been with the Games for a very long time, and his Tributes always look very nice, and well-put together. He was also terribly, terribly kind. Even to the Avoxes. During his interviews, he was always unfailingly enthusiastic about his Tributes, always building them up. He was strange looking with the Capitol fashions of course, but really, it's his personality that makes him attractive. He didn't need anything else.

I watched as he looked my girl over, and when she looked down in shame, he shook his head and lifted her chin, asked her to smile. She has my smile, my good teeth. He laughed and pointed them out to her team, how perfect and white they were, how expensive looking. The team smiled at that. And my daughter smiled too.

She was so, so _beautiful._

Later that day are the Opening Ceremonies of the Games, and then I would be serving at dinner. I would meet my daughter for the first time in eleven years. The two of us serve Beetee, the Escort from District 3, and the stylists while the Ceremonies are taking place. But we watch, too. We're required to watch, of course. Especially me, because that is my daughter up there.

None of them notice me, and I'm glad. I'm able to watch my girl, watch the Ceremonies. The two of them, my Wiress and her district partner, look wonderful together. The stylists have done such a wonderful job with them. They look like royalty. My girl smiling and waving and so charming, like her father had been. I can tell that there are some portions of the crowd that love the two of them. I love seeing the roses come down upon them. Especially when one of them gets stuck in my daughter's elaborate hairstyle.

All I want is to look at my little girl. To etch her face in my mind forever and never to forget her. There are tears coming down my face, and my partner tugs me in the back to fix myself. It won't do to show too much emotion, after all. Or any. Any at all.

I do well. For the most part. But then, something happens.

My girl laughs. She laughs and it completely unnerves me, undoes me, makes me drop my tray. I'm shouted at as tears run down my face. Shouted at, but not beaten, at least. Not today, anyway.

It doesn't matter.

I'm remembering a time, a time when I was still Aerial Mihos, when my husband was still Romex Mihos, and our daughter was a bright two-year-old. Her laugh. It was the same. I still heard it in my dreams. She must have been the tiniest baby in District 3, but she had the biggest laugh.

We were a happy family. Despite everything. Despite my husband's not-quite-sane-ness, despite the hardships of 3. We were a happy family. Which begs the question: _Why did I do it?_

I'm sent away. They know who this girl is.

So that is my punishment. One more day without being in the same room as she is. It's better for her, I'm sure.

Still, I weep myself to sleep, that night. I hate the sound of my tears.


	3. Chapter 3

At some point that night, I'm given a great gift. I'm told to clean up her room, and be sure not to wake the Tribute.

The main thing that an Avox has to master is the art of moving silently. When the Tributes wake in the morning, the Gamemakers want the rooms spotless. It's all part of how they try to impress the Tributes with Capitol luxury. Not that they'd admit what they're doing, of course. But I've been watching them for years and years...up close. I saw everything not that anyone cared. I'm only an Avox, after all.

I entered her room silently and did my work, picking up and changing towels, collecting laundry. There wasn't much to clean up, she was quite neat. When I'm largely finished, I go over to the bed and look. She's sleeping on her back and she looks so peaceful. There are still traces of makeup on her face.

I could get in trouble for this. But I couldn't help myself. I sat on her bed gently, leaned over, and stroked a lock of hair off of her face. She sighed softly and tilted her head to my hand. I couldn't move, even if I had wanted to. I could stay right here forever. Her hair is soft, slightly curly, like mine.

She stirred and opened her eyes, looked straight at me in the dim light, bleary and unfocused. There was a question there, but not concern, and she went back to sleep almost immediately, a small smile on her face.

She had so much to worry about...so I decided that I would try to stay out of her way as much as I could. She needed to learn, she needed to train. And I wanted her to have a chance, a good chance, of going home.

Of course, I watched her. How could I not? She was so focused. Untiring, during the day. She and her District partner weren't together during Training. She went from station to station alone, working at whatever she had to do with abandon. Like her father, like me. So much like me.

I noticed that she was quiet during mealtimes. Brooding. Worried. I wanted so badly to go over and comfort her, but I couldn't do that, and it hurt, that I couldn't. I only entered her room when I was sure she was asleep, even though I wanted to go in when I heard her crying in the night. Sometimes, I'd stroke her hair, but only if I knew she was fast asleep. I like to think that it helped her relax when she went to bed frightened.

It wasn't enough, oh, it was not enough! But it was all I had. I took every chance I could to be a mother to her, even if we couldn't meet face to face. I left an extra towel for her hair. I made sure that the conditioner was right. I made sure that she always had something for breakfast by making the menu system give a sound before it was time for her to leave her room. It was little that I could do for her, now, and it would have to be enough.

The night before their private sessions with the Gamemakers, they tell me I have to serve her. The Avox coordinator could very well tell the Gamemakers what's going on, he could tell them to target her during the Games. I could not refuse. I fell apart before hand, weeping privately before I cleaned myself up for the dinner service.

To my great relief, she noticed how my hands trembled, and made a conscious effort not to look at me. I served her and things went rather smoothly, though Beetee looked up once and irecognized/i me. To his credit, he didn't say anything, though Wiress looked at him strangely until he changed the subject. Her District escort also thought there was something strange about me...but they didn't want to upset Wiress.

To discuss her upcoming private session with the Gamemakers, Wiress and Beetee were at a table, talking about what she would do. It was all right to talk in front of me, of course, and I stood nearby, waiting to see if they needed a refill on their coffee. District 3 did love their coffee.

Machines. Traps. I watched her face as she explained her plans to her Mentor. She leaned forward slightly, eager. She wanted approval from an equal, and was rewarded when he looked impressed. I was so proud of her, so very proud of her, and I went to fill her cup again.

"Thank you," she said, and looked up at me.

The shock of recognition was instant. I saw her comparing features: _Eyes: different, Mouth: Same, Hair: Same, Skin: Same. _At that moment, I could almost see her thoughts on her face: _mama what are you doing here mama?why, what..._

She opened her mouth to speak, one syllable, "I..." I shook my head slightly at her, held up my hand to stop her and then she closed her mouth abruptly, burst into tears, and ran from the room.

Beetee and I looked at each other. If he spoke to me, it could mean trouble for her. And him. And I couldn't speak, of course. This whole place was bugged, there were surveillance cameras everywhere. He knew this, how could he not? I've seen him before, he _designed_ the whole system. I noticed everything, after all. I wondered if Wiress was like that.

He gave a slight nod of his head, and left the table after making his excuses. _He would take care of her. _

Later, I went into Wiress' room to clean, and when I looked upon her, I could tell that she'd cried herself to sleep. After cleaning, I stroked her hair and she came awake. She made as if to speak again, but I shook my head at her. She sighed, sniffled, and turned on her side, making it look natural, taking an opportunity to touch my hand with hers. I stroked her hair gently till she fell asleep.

It was the sweetest moment I could have ever hoped for, and I will not forget it as long as I live.


	4. Chapter 4

Once again, I'm behind the mirror, watching Wiress and her prep team. She looked better today, though a bit down. I watch as she circled her face with her hand and sticks out her tongue.

_Ugly._ She thought she was _ugly. _

Tomorrow, she was going into the Arena, and she thought she was _ugly._ Why hadn't her father told her otherwise? I wonder if the boys at school teased her. Did the girls? I pressed my hands against the glass, wishing I could just _talk_ to her. The words were all lodged in my mind and my heart.

Soon, soon, I would choke on them.

But Angelus made her laugh. I didn't hear precisely what he said to her but whatever it was, it stopped her from feeling awful. And I watch as they transform her into some amazing, elegant creature. When Angelus dressed her, it was as if she had several more inches of height. It was not precisely her, of course. Wiress is more comfortable in soft clothing, she always has been.

But she looked very poised and elegant.

I'm watching on a video screen, watching the interviews. How charming Wiress is! With her smile and her good teeth and her father's eyes, she was everything a District 3 Tribute could be. Should be. She laughed with Caesar Flickerman, she bantered with him, and there was her intelligence coming to the front of her brain, and I could tell when it happened. But she barely got warmed up before she had to end her interview.

I could listen to her talk all night. But now it was time for them to have dinner, and watch their performances and talk a little, perhaps.

But everyone was quiet and lost in their own thoughts. Even Wiress wasn't quite sure what to do now, and was quiet and reflective. I could see how scared she is. But still, she tried to comfort her district partner, hugging him tightly. And then, she tried to comfort her own Mentor.

"I'll do my best," she said. "I promise."

Beetee's eyes were wide behind his glasses. He hugged her back after a stunned moment.

_He's a Victor. He doesn't get hugs. His family is gone. _For a Victor, he's stunningly easy to read. But then, I've spent several years observing him.

"I know you will," he said with a sigh. He patted her back gently. "Go get some sleep."

Wiress left him then, and he sat back down at the table, removing his glasses and hunching over the table, his head in his hands.

Rayan patted him on the shoulder. "She does have a good chance. The sponsors are watching her closely."

"They're both so _small,_ Rayan. And did you see that boy from Four? He's the biggest boy I've ever _seen_ in the Games."

I felt as if I shouldn't be here, while they're talking, but I couldn't leave until I was dismissed.

"You should know size doesn't always matter in the Hunger Games, Beetee."

He groaned, fisting his fingers in dark, curly hair that was already starting to thin a bit. "Stop casting that up to me. Neither of them are electricians."

"But they've got skills of their own." Rayan sighed and patted Beetee's shoulder. "You've done your best."

I had never noticed the agony Beetee went through with the tributes before. I suppose now I noticed because I could sympathize with him.

When I was dismissed, I headed into Wiress' room. The room was quiet and dark, and my daughter was curled up in bed in only her underwear. And while her eyes were closed, she was still awake. Normally, I would go about my business till she was asleep, but this was her last night before she would go into the Arena.

Perhaps the last time I would see her alive. And so I sat down at her bedside, and she curled up around me and began to sob. The room was dark and no one could see as she put her arms around me, a bit awkwardly. I patted her hair and leaned over to kiss her, and she cried for a while till she was tired out. And then I kept stroking her hair until she was really asleep.

_Sleep well, baby mine. _


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, I arrived at the Viewing Center to get things ready to attend to the Mentors as they watched the Hunger Games. My heart was filled with dread. I did not want to watch my daughter kill anyone. I did not want to watch my daughter die. One of those things would happen. And perhaps both.

I've done Viewing Center room prep before, so I went on auto-pilot, setting up the room the way it needed to be set up. And then, I and my partner took our places to wait.

Most of the other districts had more than one Mentor. But there was only one Victor for District 3. I wondered what happened to Cet, who had been Beetee's Mentor...

When the mentors came in, it was obvious that Beetee hadn't slept much, if at all. He was in his suit, and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Rayan came in behind him, and he looked as if he'd slept only marginally more than Beetee. Somehow, it was comforting to me to know that they worried for the Tributes too.

At precisely 8 in the morning, the televisions clicked on. Despite the look of dread on Beetee's face, he leaned forward anxiously, elbows on his knees. The Arena wouldn't be revealed until the last possible second, just as it wouldn't be for the Tributes. There was a quick camera shot of each Tribute's face. First Geiger, pale, looking frightened. Then Wiress, equally pale, looking intense as well as frightened.

And then, the Tributes were shoved up to the surface in their glass tubes, into a world of intense green forests. And the trumpets sounded and Claudius Templesmith announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 54th Hunger Games begin!"

Geiger ran to the left, Wiress ran to the right and far around, keeping closer than Geiger to the actual Cornucopia. I lost sight of Geiger in the trees, but now the view was of the bloodbath. I strained my eyes for my daughter, while hoping beyond hope that she'd live out the day.

Finally, the cameras focused on her. "It looks like Willow Sawyer of District 7 is going in for her first kill!" Claudius Templesmith narrated. "But don't discount little Wiress Mihos of Three..."

Willow cut into Wiress' arm, then looked shocked as my daughter whirled to face her and she dropped her knife. Wiress leapt after it and before the other girl could react, my daughter had plunged the knife into the girl's chest with all her strength. Blood sprayed up and Wiress' eyes looked as shocked as the other girl's had been, but she snatched a backpack away from the ground and ran for dear life.

"It looks like Three has a fighting competitor this year!"

My heart died a little as the bloodbath went on. There had been no hesitation, no real fight. Wiress had reacted as if she were born to it. I wondered what my daughter's life had to have been, for her to react in such a way.

The screen split in several ways, showing various Tributes as they fought, hid, ran. My daughter fell into a thicket, having difficulty breathing which eased after a few minutes. My own chest ached in sympathy with her.

Later, they showed each of the surviving Tributes as they looked up at the sky to see the list of the dead. My daughter's face was deceptively impassive. But I know she was deciding what facts she could safely omit from her consciousness, so that she can keep surviving. I knew that something inside her was now gone, and she knew it too.

I watched as she hid herself, and prepared for sleep. I could see her eyes glittering in the darkness, but she did not cry.

The fact that she did not cry broke my heart.

As the broadcast wound up for the night, Rayan left, to hurry to the Sponsors' Reception, to see what the buzz was about the Tributes, to see which sponsors would back which Tributes. Beetee put his head in his hands. "They're both still alive," he murmured, "I just hope..." It sounded as if he was talking to no one in particular, but I knew he was communicating with me in the only way he could.

I brought him coffee.

The Avoxes are to sleep in the Viewing Center while the Games are on. The Mentors don't, generally, but Beetee was, waiting for Rayan to come back from the reception.

Eventually, he came in. "Beetee?"

He hadn't been sleeping, but he'd been so quiet, it was a shock to me when he spoke. "How is it looking, Rayan?"

He walked over cheerily, pushing his hand through his hair. "Well, there's quite a lot of buzz about the girl," he said. "No one's ready to commit yet, but they haven't seen a Tribute from 3 with quite so much spunk in a few years. And getting Angelus was a boon. He was amazing with her, you have to admit, and it showed all over her."

He sighed in relief, then asked. "And Geiger?"

Rayan shook his head. "Unfortunately not. Maybe he'll distinguish himself in time."

"Maybe." But Beetee sounded doubtful.

"You should get some sleep, Beetee. Nothing else will happen tonight."

He sighed again. "I won't be able to. I'll just stay here tonight."

Rayan nodded. "Suit yourself. I'll be back in the morning."

Beetee nodded and slouched in his chair again.

I brought him more coffee.

"Thank you," he murmured, even though he didn't have to.

I curled up on the sofa, but I didn't sleep, not anymore than my daughter slept that night.

Or Beetee, for that matter.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, I woke from fitful sleep to find Beetee slumped in his chair, his coffee long gone and his suit rumpled. I began cleaning quietly around him, and when he woke, I placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and patted my hand. He left the room briefly before the broadcast for the day began and came back in his regular clothes. He had a doughnut in his hand and I brought him coffee.

The beginning of the broadcast day began with what had happened overnight in the Arena. I was glad to see that my daughter had hidden in some brush and not stirred from that spot for the whole night. The Careers, as usual, hunted at night, but they didn't find my daughter, or her district partner.

"She has to find water," Beetee murmured. "They both do."

I knew this, but I also understood that usually, he didn't have anyone to talk to...and he was usually fine with that, but not this year. Not this year. Because I was Wiress' mother, and no matter what happened, he was the Victor of District Three and whether it's right or wrong, he felt a responsibility towards me.

And we fell into a pattern after a little while. I keep busy. There's always something to do as an Avox, though for many of the chores, I'm excused since my daughter is competing. So I make sure Beetee's coffee cup is always full unless he wants something else.

As I watched the Games, I found myself thinking of my husband Romex. I wondered how he was dealing with watching the Games, I wondered if there was anyone to comfort him at all. He'd never been the easiest person to get along with, and even harder, sometimes, to love. He was prone to delusions, but he was a brilliant man, and I had loved him despite how crazy he was. Or maybe because of it. Perhaps I wasn't quite sane. I'm certainly much less than sane now. Much, much less.

And so we watched, as Wiress searched for water, we watched as she climbed trees and studied the Arena. Days slipped by, as our Tributes stayed alive. We watched as Wiress constructed her traps, deadly and beautiful contraptions.

And we watched, kept watching. Geiger was lost in the Arena. He'd manged to find water, but he wasn't a fighter. He wasn't clever in that way. I felt the same way I do about most of the Tributes from Three: he never had a chance. Though maybe that wasn't strictly true. He was certainly braver than most and he didn't try to strike an alliance with the Careers. He kept to himself, and kept low.

I felt badly that Wiress and Geiger were friends. It might have been easier if they hadn't known each other at all.

The kill rate seemed to be high for these Games. The Careers were active and hunting, the rest of the Tributes hiding, running. My daughter is hiding in a tree. Watching to see how her machine works.

And there's Geiger, though it's dark now, and Wiress is dozing in the tree, Geiger and a hulking District Two boy who are fighting now. Geiger is putting up a good fight. I'm proud of him. But Wiress has woken up, looking over curiously.

The District Two boy was edging closer to Wiress' trip line, and that's what she's watching for. I can tell that she didn't see Geiger there...her face was too smooth and not anxious enough.

Before I know it, there's a spear through poor Geiger's lower chest, and then a sicking wet sound of the mechanism going off, the sound of wooden spike driven through skull and neck. The boy from Two stiffens, but is dead, the canon going off, before he hits the ground.

Geiger is not dead yet. Wiress looks down, seeing the boy from Two first, lying with the spikes she'd fashioned in his head and neck, blood spreading and pooling around him in the dark forest...but then she spies Geiger, and any satisfaction on her face drains into a blank sort of shock, and she makes a small, pained sound.

"Oh, _sparks_," Beetee muttered.

_Oh, Wiress,_I think, as she hurries down the tree and over to Geiger's side, dragging him away quickly. I can hear her breathing, the sharp inhale and ragged exhale, and all cameras are on her now. She and Geiger were now the dramatic event of the day so far, and she helped him up, half-dragging him along to hide in some brush.

I could barely watch, but I couldn't look away. They were _close_, the two of them. I can't imagine siblings being any closer. And she held him as he died. Beetee put his head in his hands.

We all hate losing our Tributes.

Rayan came in at that point, bouncing excitedly. "She's got a sponsor!"

Beetee picked his head up and blinked over at him, shock plain on his face: _this never happens._ "What?"

"She's got a sponsor. He wants to send her bread! And that's for starters. He wants to see how she progresses, of course, but..."

His brow furrowed in thought. "Bring it here. Make sure it's District 3 bread. I'll wrap it before it goes into the Arena." He got up. I could see him chewing on the inside of his mouth as he thought.

A sponsor. That meant someone was betting on her. I know how the betting pool works. The odds on Wiress winning, or even living for another few days, increased with how well she did with sponsors.

Rayan brought the bread, still warm, into the viewing room, and Beetee wrapped it up carefully. He didn't say anything, but he took a long, yellow ribbon out of his pocket to tie the wrappings on. "Okay. Send it in," he said, stepping aside as Rayan took it to the gift distribution room.

The meaning of the yellow ribbon was probably lost on Rayan, but not on me. Beetee was mourning someone.

And now, so was Wiress.

He was setting her up with a storyline.

I looked up at the screen. My daughter was running, running. Her eyes were empty, and she looked completely lost.

I watched as she got the parcel, and she unwrapped it. She sat, hidden, as she chewed on the bread, looked at the ribbon, and thought. I could _see_ her matching up things in her head, drawing connections, making realizations.

And then she kissed the ribbon, putting it around her neck. She consolidated her packs. I can see all the emotion on her face, but she wasn't crying or showing weakness. She put on the night-goggles she'd taken off the boy from Two, and started to travel deeper into the woods.

When she stopped for the night, she climbed a tree and wrapped herself in Geiger's sleeping bag, cuddling into it as if she were snuggling up to a person, and hid her face.

It looked to me as if she were embracing her storyline.

I just hoped it would help her survive.


End file.
